


036 "sparkly"

by wheel_pen



Series: Iron Man AU [36]
Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fish out of Water, My Pepper is different, Pre-Iron Man, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obadiah pulls Tony’s strings at yet another company networking event. Tony would much rather continue dancing with his eccentric new assistant. “I’m gonna chalk that up to a desire to impress, which is always appreciated.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	036 "sparkly"

**Author's Note:**

> 1) My Pepper is very different from canon Pepper. Her personality/origin is very different; to separate her from canon Pepper I've given her a new last name and a different hair color.
> 
> 2) The bad words are censored. That's just how I do things.
> 
> 3) Stories are numbered in the order I wrote them, which isn't necessarily the order in which they occur. The timeline is Chapter 2 of story 031 “wet.”
> 
> I wrote this series after the first Iron Man movie came out. It's very AU but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play with these characters.

            “And somehow, I knew I’d find you hanging out by the bar,” Obadiah remarked sardonically.

            “It’s a homing instinct,” I replied, tipping back my martini. “I’m just trying to get my bearings.”

            “Well go get them out on the floor,” Obadiah suggested, leaning against the bar. “I’ve been glad-handing people for half an hour, it’s your turn. Where’ve you been, anyway?”

            “Gladly handling a guest in the coat room,” I answered. “Is my bowtie straight?”

            “Which guest?”

            “No idea. I’ll point her out if I see her.”

            Obadiah rolled his eyes. “Well don’t wear yourself out, sport. I’ve got people I want you to meet later.”

            I affected a confused expression. “Wait… is ‘meet’ really a euphemism for—“

            “And _don’t_ drink too much before your speech,” he added, seeing the bartender bring me a fresh martini. “The Board and I would prefer you hew a little closer to the script this time.”

            I grinned at the memory of my last company speech. “But Obie, you know my best style is extemporaneous!”

            “Not at a sales meeting.” Sure, it may have _looked_ like a glamorous cocktail party held at the stylish Stark Pavilion in downtown San Francisco—but in reality, it was a sales meeting. The guests were military types who would hopefully use our latest defense technologies, politicians who would fund their purchase, and subcontractors who would vie to create the bits and pieces we needed. And I was the chief salesman.

            “Have you seen Pepper?” I asked Obadiah.

            He raised his eyebrows. “You made your assistant come to this?”

            Oh, like _he_ was such a viable candidate for the Boss of the Year award. “How else would I know what I was giving a speech about?” I finished off my drink. “Besides, I didn’t _make_ her come,” I corrected him. “I _invited_ her, _if_ she didn’t have any other plans.” Okay, actually the line went more like, ‘Hey, Pepper, you’re coming to the work thing tonight, right?’ but she’d said yes immediately. “Where’s Joanna? Why does _she_ get a free pass?”

            Obadiah stopped the bartender from giving me another martini and instead pushed a glass of water towards me. “Joanna is at home with her children,” he replied, not sounding entirely satisfied with the situation. “It’s in her contract, you know.” Yeah, if she worked six days a week, ten hours a day, she didn’t have to come in after 6pm. He’d made her take a pay cut in exchange for _that_ concession.

            “Ha,” I needled him smugly. “Let’s hope Pepper doesn’t acquire any children soon. Or indeed, a life of _any_ kind.”

            “How do you know she _doesn’t_ have any?” he asked idly. “I doubt it would occur to you to find out.”

            He was just toying with me, I knew. Pepper had been on the job a couple months yet so far she was oddly reticent about her personal life. There were no family photographs at her desk, no weekend plans besides work and general errands, and only _reading_ as a hobby, according to my secretaries. Her life seemed very focused on _me_ , i.e., _work_ , right now, which I felt was only appropriate. You _would_ think a child would have been mentioned by now, if one existed.

            “Besides,” I continued, ignoring his comment, “I let her leave early today to go buy a dress for this. So that makes up for it. She probably had a whole forty-five minutes of the hour left over for idling.”

            Obadiah rolled his eyes. “You don’t shop with women much, do you?”

            “Why would I?”

            He looked out at the crowd suddenly. “Oh, here she comes.”

            I kept my back to the room. I didn’t want to look too eager. “How’s the dress? Is it short? Is it red?”

            “No and no.” I made a noise of disappointment. “You know, if it’s been this long and you still haven’t got her in the sack yet, maybe it’s not going to happen,” he teased cruelly. “Maybe she’s not interested in you.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed. “She’s merely tormented by the whole employee-employer thing. She doesn’t understand yet how sophisticated and Continental I am.”

            “That’s shocking,” he deadpanned. “Here she is.”

            “Good evening, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said behind me, and I turned with surprise, as though I had no idea she was even around.

            “Why, good evening, Pepper,” I replied casually. “Hmm. That’s the dress you bought?”

            Her smile vanished. “You don’t like it, Mr. Stark?”

            “Well, there’s a little more of it than I was hoping for,” I admitted.

            “Tony,” Obadiah warned under his breath.

            The dark blue color looked fantastic on her and it was appropriately form-fitting, but the hem went all the way to the floor and the neckline covered her collarbone completely, with nothing in between but fifty miles of plain dark blue. “I’m going to have to come shopping with you next time.” Obadiah had a different viewpoint and made a discreet signal towards me. “Er, turn around, would you, Pepper? Let’s see the whole thing before I make up my mind.” She turned around. “Holy s—t,” I commented, choking on my water. The dress was basically backless, with a large, sparkly brooch decorating a strategic point, below which the skirt turned into elegant flouncy ruffled things.

            “Are you alright, Mr. Stark?” Pepper asked with concern.

            “Oh, yeah, just fine,” I sputtered, clearing my throat. “I changed my mind, I think you did a very fine job on the dress.”

            “Thank you,” she replied, still patiently standing with her back to me. I couldn’t say I minded. “But does that mean you won’t come shopping with me?”

            She sounded disappointed and I shot Obadiah a smug look. “Oh, I’m sure we could arrange a few shopping trips,” I assured her. “Um, you can turn back around, Pepper. You know, for _specialty_ items…” Wink, wink.

            “Ohhh,” she nodded. “Like fruit!”

            I blinked at her. “Er, yeah,” I agreed, uncertain if I was missing something, like innuendo or mockery. Obadiah snorted but Pepper didn’t even look at him. I appreciated her complete and total focus on _me_. “Can I get you a drink, Pepper?” I offered, remembering my manners.

            “No, thank you, Mr. Stark,” she answered pleasantly. “I drank before I came.”

            “I know the feeling,” I sympathized. “These things can be hard to get through. How about a dance?”

            “Okay.”

            “Uh, Tony,” Obadiah cut in, “there’s a couple things I need you to—“

            “Just one dance, promise,” I assured him, taking Pepper’s elbow. Of course that was a total lie, because I intended to keep dancing until he dragged me away again.

            “Whatever you prefer, Mr. Stark,” Pepper said randomly. “I don’t really know how to dance, though.”

            “No? I find that hard to believe, Pepper,” I told her, picking a spot far away from Obadiah’s beady gaze. “You look like a natural dancer to me.”

            Well, that turned out to be a bit of an overstatement on my part. However, after some confusion over where, exactly, her hands were supposed to go (unfortunately, not because she was trying to put them someplace _interesting_ ) and the entire concept of swaying vaguely in time to the music together, we got it worked out. I left a respectful distance between us, with my hand only at her waist on the side, sort of junior high Valentine’s Day dance territory.

            “So where’d you get this lovely dress, Pepper?” I asked as an opener.

            “At the Vera Wang store,” she replied, which was appropriately high-end. “And I got new shoes to go with it!” Pepper seemed to enjoy pointy stilettos a great deal.

            “Very _tall_ new shoes…”

            “Are they _too_ tall?” she worried.

            She was about my height barefoot, I guessed, not that I had ever _seen_ her barefoot, so with the heels she had several inches on me. It didn’t bother me, though—I wasn’t the kind of guy to get insecure about that kind of thing. She seemed gratified to know that.

            “You’re not wearing any jewelry with it, though,” I continued. “You know, a necklace or something to dress it up a bit.”

            “It came with a sparkly thing in back,” she pointed out.

            I took the opportunity to get another look. “So it did,” I conceded. “I wonder if those are real diamonds. Maybe I should examine it more closely sometime.”

            “I don’t think they’re diamonds,” she responded, totally ignoring my come-on. “I think they’re just sparkly and pretty.”

            Hmm, curious young woman, I decided. She spoke at least three languages, never made spelling errors, and could do math in her head almost as fast as I could (and sometimes, it pained me to admit, more accurately). So she wasn’t really _dumb_ , unlike many of the beautiful and no doubt kind-hearted women I often associated with. Maybe she just wasn’t very worldly.

            Well, let no one say life with me wasn’t educational.

            “You know, I think I should get you some jewelry,” I suggested casually. “Something you could wear to work functions. Just a little diamond necklace or…” I leaned closer to her. “Oh, you don’t seem to have pierced ears,” I observed. “Clip-on earrings, then. Oops, it’s getting a little crowded out here, isn’t it?”

            In reality, there was no one within a good six feet of us. But I was banking on her intoxication with my charm to keep her from noticing that. I slid my arm farther around her waist, pulling her closer. The skin of her back was surprisingly cool under my hand.

            Pepper frowned suddenly and I prepared to step back a little if I had moved too quickly. These things could be delicate, especially with assistants. “Are you covering up my sparkly thing?” she asked.

            I leaned around to look. “I believe so. Is that a problem?”

            “Well, I guess not…” Her expression said yes.

            “I’d be happy to move my arm,” I offered generously, “so as not to block the sparkly thing. But I think the only logical direction to go in is _down_. Is that alright with you?”

            “Yes, that should be fine.”

            I moved my arm down, allowing the sparkly thing to blaze in glory once again. It wasn’t a total a-s-grab—my hand was merely resting in a suggestive location, which seemed a better place to start, anyway. “Comfortable?”

            “Yes, Mr. Stark.”

            “You know, I’m okay with you calling me Tony, Pepper,” I pointed out. “I like to feel like my assistants and I have a more open, casual relationship.”

            She gave this some serious thought. “Well, I just don’t think that would be suitable for me right now, Mr. Stark,” she finally decided.

            So us dancing in public with my hand on her a-s was fine, but she just wasn’t ready to call me by my first name. And she wanted me to come shopping with her, but she wouldn’t have a drink with me. And she didn’t seem to get my innuendos, or take offense at my comments that Obadiah chastised me for.

            Perhaps ‘curious’ didn’t really cover it.

            “I have your notes for the speech,” Pepper began after a moment of silence between us. “The full text will also be on the—“

            “Let’s not talk about work right now,” I suggested, encouraging her to move a bit closer. “Don’t worry, I’m not covering it up,” I assured her quickly, stymieing her predicted protest. “You know, you can read about my entire life in any magazine, but I don’t know much about _you_.”

            “Neither do I,” she commented sympathetically.

            I chuckled a bit—maybe she just had a really dry, slightly absurd sense of humor. “So where are you from, Pepper? Do you have any siblings, boyfriend, kids, dogs?”

            “Pennsylvania,” she replied carefully, “no, no”—score!—“no, and no.”

            “Pennsylvania, huh?” I repeated. “I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone from Pennsylvania before. I wasn’t really even sure it existed.”

            “Stark Industries owns several steel mills in Pennsylvania,” she pointed out politely, “which you have visited numerous times. Also, you were arrested in Pennsylvania once.”

            “Hmm, really? I don’t remember that,” I admitted with a grin. “What was I arrested for?”

            “Indecent exposure,” she replied matter-of-factly.

            Well, that wasn’t a stretch. “Oh. Well, I probably thought I was in Ohio at the time.”

            “It was on July 24th, five years ago,” Pepper recited informatively. “But the charges were dropped.”

            “Along with my pants,” I joked. She frowned, seemingly confused. I decided to move on. “Little creepy, by the way, that you have the exact date memorized, but I’m gonna chalk that up to a desire to impress, which is always appreciated, Pepper.”

            “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

            I was about to ask her something else insightful about herself when a heavy hand descended on my shoulder and Obadiah’s fake, toothy grin appeared way too close to my face. “Sorry to interrupt,” he began insincerely, “but there’s just so many people here who are eager to meet you, Tony. Excuse us,” he added to Pepper, dragging me away.

            “We’ll catch up later, Pep,” I promised as I was forced to abandon her on the dance floor. “Dude, I was finally making a little progress with her,” I complained under my breath.

            “So I saw,” he hissed through his false smile. “Could you do me a favor and _not_ grope your assistant in public, Tony? Please. It’s a little off-putting to the people I want you to meet.” I wasn’t sure if this was because those ‘people’ wanted to pretend I only wanted to grope _them_ , or if they just preferred that all groping take place behind closed doors.

            “Well, I _asked_ and she said it was fine,” I insisted. “And she doesn’t have any kids. So there.”

            He rolled his eyes. “Grown-up voice, please, Tony. Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Claibourne, here he is! Tony, Bill Claibourne, the CEO of Dutch Steel.”

            We shook hands. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Stark,” the man said.

            “Please, call me Tony,” I insisted chummily, “even though my assistant won’t.” This seemed to throw them a bit, but that was my specialty. Smooth, bland charm was too common. “Dutch Steel—you’re based in Pennsylvania, right? You know, I was arrested once in Pennsylvania.”

            The Claibournes glanced at each other but Obadiah wasn’t worried. He knew most of my tricks by now—having taught me many of them. “Really? What for?” ventured Mrs. Claibourne, who was thirtyish, slim, and attractive in an artificial way.

            For a moment I thought longingly of Pepper’s natural, unforced beauty. But business before pleasure. “Indecent exposure,” I answered jauntily. “July 24th, five years ago. Hilarious story. I _thought_ I was in Ohio at the time…”

            Several hours, drinks, jokes, and, well, only one speech later, I wandered back into the main room to find it emptied of people and most of the furniture, with only Obadiah nursing a beer at one end of the bar. “Honey, you waited up for me,” I cracked. “I’m touched.”

            “Speaking of which, you aren’t taking Mrs. Claibourne home?” he questioned. He puffed away on one of his fat cigars, right under a glaring ‘No Smoking’ sign.

            “No, she and her husband have an early flight to Zurich tomorrow,” I replied, leaving one bar stool between us. “But she said she’d call me. I really think she’s the One.”

            Obadiah snorted. “Whiskey,” he commanded the lone bartender stationed at the far end. “But will _I_ be getting a call from her husband about those steel contracts? Leave the bottle.”

            I waited until the bartender had finished pouring my drink and returned to his post. “I would imagine so. She seemed quite satisfied with the upstairs lounge.” I downed the whiskey in one shot and poured myself another.

            Obadiah reach over and thumped my back companionably. “Good lad.”

            “Say, what happened to Pepper?” I asked after a moment of quiet.

            “I had her sent home,” Obadiah revealed. “I think she was going to wait for you, ‘til it was pointed out you might be taking a guest straight home.”

            I grimaced just a little bit and blamed it on the whiskey. “What’d she say?” I asked, trying to sound like I didn’t really care.

            He shrugged. “Carlo from PR booted her out. He said she just nodded and left.”

            “I gotta get her a necklace,” I determined, watching the dim light bounce off the whiskey in my glass. “Earrings, too. She likes sparkly things. You know, to wear at work functions.”

            Obadiah rolled his eyes. “She seriously said you could put your hand on her a-s? In public?” I indicated yes. “Well maybe you _are_ thawing her out a little,” he allowed. “Just don’t get distracted, alright, Tony? We’ve got some big launches coming up.”

            “Ready, willing, and able to do my part,” I assured him dryly, raising my glass.

            He smirked. “Come on, it’s too quiet here. Let’s go out.” He stood, glancing dismissively at the bartender.

            “I’m gonna keep the bottle,” I decided, picking it up.

            “It’s your name on the building,” he agreed. I dropped a handful of bills on the bar once his back was turned—Obadiah didn’t really approve of tipping, of course—and followed where he led.

* * *


End file.
